Years Of Summer
by always-been-a-pirate
Summary: Every year, she spent her summer in the house just across the rocky shoreline. Every year, it became a little harder to not wish for more than just one season. A two shot for CS AU Week with a modern somewhat Lieutenant Duckling theme.


**Here's part one of this little ficlet I couldn't keep myself from writing. The next part might get a little more heated, but this is T-Rated. Enjoy!**

* * *

The house on the rocky coastline had once been his grandfather's - not that he'd ever met the man. He didn't really need to when he had a storyteller like his older brother to fill in the blanks. Over the years, Liam had become a master at cloaking those tales in the salty sea breeze during the warm summer months. They had endless days of recounting the family history that Killian was fairly sure was at least _partly_ false, but his brother had always had a way with crafting words into a convincing saga. Plus, with a widowed and very absentee father being the only other man he had to look up to, finding entertainment in his brother's tellings was definitely a preferred pastime.

"You know, he built that house all by _himself_ , Killian," Liam explained, his clumsy teenage feet navigating the boulders by the shore. "He said it was a good place for him and grandma to have a future together."

"Oh," Killian sighed as his little legs fought to keep up. "Well….did they have one?"

"One what?"

"A future?"

"Well, yeah," Liam answered, raising an eyebrow. "They lived here all their lives - and they loved each other."

" _Love?_ That's gross, Liam."

"Maybe so," his brother laughed, handing over a stone that was begging to be skipped across the water. "But one day it probably won't be anymore."

The timeline of 'one day' dwindled faster than Killian knew it would, his summer walks to the waves with his hero became more sporadic as Liam started taking an interest in that dreaded four letter word. Waking early in the mornings, his brother would take off on his bike with other lads his own age in pursuit of the series of carnivals downtown and the throes of vacationing girls. It was a way to spend the sunshine filled hours that Killian knew he'd _never_ enjoy - not in a million years.

It would actually take much less time than that to change his stubborn mind - not even the remainder of the summer in fact.

"Who are you?"

The voice was soft and simple, a sweet tone of curiosity to it that quickly pulled him out of the lonely and rather redundant task of searching for seashells. His head snapped up in the direction of the inquiry as his shaggy hair blew in messy patterns across his forehead. The ground seemed to shift under his well worn sandals as he caught sight of where the question was coming from - and his bright blue eyes opened just a _bit_ wider.

"Uhhh," he stammered, straightening his posture. "Who are _you?"_

"I asked you first."

It was a girl - one that appeared to be roughly his same age. She had the fairest porcelain skin and deep green eyes that he couldn't escape as he watched her hide her smile. Long blonde hair tumbled down her narrow shoulders and the fabric of her red sundress hit just below her knees. His voice became hard to find quite suddenly as he tilted his head in consideration of her.

Whoever she was, she certainly _wasn't_ from the sleepy seaside town he called home.

"Oh - well, I, _uh_ ….I live here," he tried, pointing to the hillside at the beach's north end. "Well, up _there_ actually. I'm….I'm Killian."

"You-" she replied, giving him a skeptical look. "-live _here?_ But this place is just for vacations."

"Maybe for you," he grinned, wondering if he was doing that _awful_ 'flirting' thing Liam always went on about. "But I've always lived here."

"By yourself?"

"Well, no," he shook his head, dropping his scavenged shells clumsily. "With my big brother….and my dad."

"Oh," she replied as she bent to help him. "Where are they?"

"Busy I guess," he shrugged, kicking at the sand before bending down to pick up a sand dollar. "Are you here alone?"

"No, my parents are here," she said, lifting up on her toes to see what he was doing. "They like to stay up by the house though and it's kind of boring up there."

" _Those_ are the nice houses though," he commented. "I've never been up to that side of the shore."

"Oh - well, _umm_ ," she stammered, her eyes green with hope. "Do you want to?"

His mind reeled for a moment as he straightened his shoulders, glancing back toward his own residence briefly. Nobody was home - nobody had _been_ home since Liam took off just after they awoke and if he had to count on his father, chances were that nobody would be home until dusk. He'd been warned before to stay out of the way of the wealthy summering the hot months away on their shoreline, but this girl wasn't like those people.

No, _she_ was different. He knew that from the instant he set his sight on her.

"Okay," he said, keeping his feet steady as he answered. "Are you sure we won't get in trouble?"

"Of course not," she laughed. "Why would we get in trouble?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, feeling the heat on his cheeks. "Won't your parents be mad that you invited a stranger over?"

"I don't think so," she answered after a moment, offering him a sweet smile. "You seem nice."

"We don't really know each other though," he reminded her. "I don't even know your name."

"Well, I'm Emma," she told him with a smirk. "And you're Killian. _Now_ we know each other."

She looked at him in the loneliest, kindest manner anyone _ever_ had - almost like she was a mirror and he was seeing himself, broken lost boy and all. He didn't know about fate - if it was real or even what it _actually_ was - but Killian couldn't help to wonder if they were meant to run into one another. She held out a hand to him, batting her lashes in the most playful way.

"Race you?"

Glancing down at her wavering fingers, he took only a moment to ponder the offer before he grasped her hand with a fervor that made her giggle. His feet moved automatically beneath him as they chased one another, her hair flowing in the afternoon breeze and the sound of her soothing laughter his only distraction as they moved up the hillside that he'd never yet climbed. Their jog was short - _too_ short to declare an _appropriate_ winner he decided silently as he followed in her shallow footsteps.

Perhaps that day was the start of him always letting her win. _Perhaps_ that was the instance when he decided he liked it that way.

" _Look_ , Killian," she said, pausing and pointing out at the bay. "Do you see that?"

"The lighthouse?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Has it always been there?"

"I think so," he replied, scratching softly behind his ear. "At least it has for as long as I can remember."

"What's it for?"

"My brother says it helps the boats on the water," he explained, gesturing out toward the waves. "It shows them where the shore is so they can find land when they're lost or trying to figure out which way to go."

"Oh, so it tells them-" she inquired, pausing to glance sideways at him. "-how to get home?"

"Yeah," he agreed, matching her stare. "I guess it does."

"Hmmm," she said softly. "I like that."

"Yeah," he sighed, still keeping his gaze fixed on this mystery girl. "Me too."

* * *

The days turned into weeks while those weeks shifted quickly into the rest of the summer. His daily trips to the seaside now came with a new purpose - finding her and following _just_ about anywhere. Her company was something he knew he'd lose when the small tourist town traded sunshine for storms, but he couldn't help the desire he had to be near her. They spent hours on end together - splashing in the surf, playing cards on her family's deck, and trading questions about their worlds.

Hers was _much_ different than his. Hers was much _better_ than his.

Watching her leave the first time wasn't initially all that difficult. It was merely the way of the seasons - the out of towners showed up in the summer and departed just before fall. The sadness didn't strike him until much later when he went home to an empty house, the void dim space reminding him of the girl who'd just packed up and left with her family. It was hard not to think of her contagious laugh or miss the million things she inquired about while they traversed the sandy beach.

 _Killian, where do seashells come from?_

 _Killian, why are there a lot of boats on the water some days and not as many on other days?_

 _Killian, do you know how to build a sandcastle?_

 _Killian, why doesn't your brother come to the beach with you?_

 _Killian, where are your parents?_

Even with painful questions like those last two and the way they echoed in his head, he still missed it. He missed _her_. He was her summer, but _she_ was….well, much more than just a season.

* * *

The years rolled on, endless months full of dull autumns and harsh winters. Yet every spring, the world started to brighten just enough that he could see straight into the warmly approaching months. He'd count the days, knowing the precise morning that the the warm weather residents typically started pouring back into town. He never knew exactly which day her family's car would pull up in front of that house just across the shore, but he rode his bike there early each morning and just before sunset each night until they _finally_ arrived.

The smile she'd give upon seeing him was the sure sign of summer - a thousand rays of sunlight and sheer joy wrapped up in the genuine curve of her lips. They'd been twelve then or _maybe_ thirteen when he first realized what this was with them - he couldn't quite recall, but he knew then that the end of summer was suddenly going to hurt like hell. He had so much more to give and to learn and to say and to…. _promise_. He just needed the time to do so and time was something that was always limited with them.

Okay, they'd been thirteen when he'd decided all of this - as if he could _ever_ forget.

They hadn't been very old the day she'd found him that first time on the beach, but by the time she returned each year, experience had left him a few more tragedies to tell. The sand was always cold under their toes as they walked the length of the shoreline at night, Killian throwing stones into water as he told her answers to the questions he knew were breaking her heart and therefore could not be asked.

 _He must have had too much to drink one night and I found him the next morning on the back porch, freezing cold and he was just….gone._

 _There's no other family left now - just the two of us boys._

 _I suppose once Liam's finished school, he'll leave for the Navy and I'll stay here with the house._

 _I'm not sure leaving this place is in the cards for me, but I'll make do._

 _I've always taken care of myself, Emma - you needn't worry about me._

She'd squeezed his hand in a comforting gesture that surprised him at first, but as their skin pressed together, he found that perhaps her fingers were meant to fit his. The way she clung to his arm was so natural and as her head dropped against his shoulder, his mind calmed once again like the sea in the aftermath of the most terrible tempest.

The lifeless days that strung together the time they weren't together were the hardest - only a few scattered letters and a phone call or two keeping his heart beating. Their contact was minimal and the missing her multiplied as the waves washed upon the frozen shore, waiting for her to return so his world could start spinning again.

She had a way with that - with making life make sense for him. Killian knew he needed to cling to it, _even_ if he could only do so for a few months each year.

It was the summer after she'd just turned sixteen that made him want _more_ than just that.

* * *

"Killian! _Oh_ , it's so lovely to see you," Emma's mother greeted, setting down her watering can on the back deck before setting out to hug him. "How have you been?"

"I'm good, Mrs. Nolan," he assured her, letting her wrap him in a loving embrace as he paused on the steps leading up to the wood platform. "It's wonderful to see you as well."

"Oh my goodness, will you _ever_ learn to call me Mary Margaret? I _swear_ I've been asking you for years!"

"Fairly sure you have," he nodded, giving her a smile that told her he'd been counting just how many summers she'd been making that request. "How was the drive?"

"It was great - not too busy," she carried on. "I'm glad we decided to head down a few days earlier."

 _So am I_ , he thought quietly to himself as she resumed tending to her flower pots.

"We actually made pretty good time too," she continued with a smirk. "Especially considering the fact that we-"

"Killian!"

It didn't matter how many months had gone by and how many sleepless nights he'd spent longing for it - he'd recognize that voice _anywhere_. The only thing that could possibly rival the sweet sound of his name was the expression on her face when he turned to meet her excited eyes.

" _Emma_."

She emerged from the doorway with an ecstatic grin, one that quickly enveloped him into that alternate life he was able to pursue for those three months each year. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she nuzzled his shoulder and he laughed at her enthusiasm, letting it melt his heart as he lifted her into a relieved hug. Her hair still carried that scent of vanilla and the sea - the one that belonged to _only_ her. He wanted to drown in it and the girl now clinging to him like she wouldn't ever let him go.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said softly, her words slightly muffled against the flannel of his shirt.

"Likewise, love," he grinned, pulling back to look down at her. "It _is_ summer though - you should know by now that this is the only place I'd be."

"I'm pretty sure we're all grateful for that," Emma's dad announced as he walked out onto the deck. "How's it going, Killian?"

"Mr. Nolan - great to see you," he smiled, engaging in their usual handshake. "Still planning on fixing up that fishing boat this summer? I can help if you still need it."

"I'd appreciate that," the man nodded with a smirk that matched his wife's. "But only if you call me David."

"Yeah, _keep_ trying," Mary Margaret laughed, shooting Killian a good natured glare. "I don't know if he'll _ever_ learn."

"Probably not," David smiled, his head tilting in a nod. "But if we keep at it, we just might train that politeness out of him eventually."

Killian had to chuckle at that. There was something so normal about this - about being with the Nolan's and with Emma that felt like….well, like _home_. They were a family and for the season, they made him feel like he was part of it too. The way Mary Margaret and David seemed to trust and care for him was something valued and unmatched.

Well, _except_ by the green eyed girl at his side - the one giving him a smirk that could convince him of _anything_.

"Come _on_ ," Emma said, elbowing him gently. "Let's get out of here before we're subjected to a whole series of questions…. _or_ stories."

"As you wish," he laughed, waving to Emma's parents. "Nice seeing you both. Let me know about that boat, Mr. Nolan - I'll be around all summer."

David smiled wide at the offer, nodding with a wink as they headed back down toward the beach. It was a reaction that seemed _far_ too knowing for the man who'd employed with an odd job or two during past seasons. Emma's parents had always liked him - he'd never really questioned that - but this was…. _different_. Killian let his thoughts linger on the gesture for a moment before he brushed it aside in favor of listening to the start of what would likely be many conversations.

They talked - or rather _she_ talked - them right into the sunset, the glow of the warmth sinking below the water as the beach became a bit quieter. Her arm looped through his as he guided her along the sandy pathway they'd traveled a thousand times before. Her voice was happy and animated as she told him about everything from big news to small secrets.

 _I think after I graduate, I'm going to look into universities in New York because they've got great pre-law programs._

 _I don't even want to go to the prom so I don't know why my mother is insisting that we go shopping for a dress when we get back._

 _My friend, Ruby, from back home has this new boyfriend and she never stops talking about him._

 _I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the last girl in my grade to kiss a guy._

Killian nearly tripped over a piece of beechwood that had somehow ended up on their stretch of shore when she'd shared that last one. He tried to process the sudden admission as they halted in their usual spot - the smoothest part of the sand under the rundown boardwalk that led out to the lighthouse. The beam was bright as it scanned the distant bay and the way it lit up her features was enough to make his heart skip a beat or three. She shivered a bit before turning to him with a slight pout, a reaction he'd figured out a few summers ago.

" _Here_ ," he grinned, shrugging his jacket off and wrapping it around her shoulders. "I'd hate for you to catch a cold in the middle of the sweltering heat."

"Hey - it's not _that_ warm," she teased, slapping his arm before pulling the material of the borrowed warmth closer. "Plus maybe I just like wearing it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she returned, staring up at him in the shadow of the night sky. "Maybe."

Even in the dark and despite the height difference they'd had for a few years now, it was easy to make out the flirtatious nature of her gaze. His eyes locked on her lips as she ran her tongue across the bottom one and Killian felt his stomach flip flop. The comment she'd made only moments ago flashed in his head - the one that now had him analyzing her expression in search of what she wanted because god, _he_ wanted….that.

In that moment, it was all he could think about. He _wanted_ to kiss her. Maybe he'd _always_ wanted to kiss her.

"Killian, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he breathed, trying to steady his voice. "What's on your mind?"

"Have _you_ -" she started, her words a near whisper. "-ever kissed someone?"

Her question slammed into him a lot harder than any of them ever had, quite a feat to be reckoned with seeing as how she'd prompted him to speak of his misfortunes many times before with that inquiring tilt of her head. His mind was a jumble as she rocked slightly on her heels, her bare feet _very_ close to his. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know which was way up when she looked at him like _this_. There was only one road he could take with her and it was the one they'd traveled so many times before - complete and uninhibited _honesty_.

"Uh, no," he said as he looked down at her. "I haven't."

"Why not?"

A hundred answers flew through his head as he fixated on the emerald glint in her gaze and the curve of her mouth. He knew what he _wanted_ to say, but was that what she wanted to hear? She blinked lazily, her lips pressed together lightly as she waited for the answer he didn't have.

Well, he had a few that he couldn't _actually_ tell her - _because I'm not sure how to go about it_ and _because I've been waiting to kiss you_ being the two that were currently lingering in his mind. He parted his lips, willing something to come out as she did the same. Time seemed to slow as the night surrounded them and one of Emma's hands reached for his, their fingertips brushing with a convincing spark - one that made Killian realize that maybe his explanation _wasn't_ all that important right now.

His touch lifted to her cheek and his thumb moved in a slow swipe over the space beneath her eye, a motion that caused her to smile nervously as her free palm pressed faintly on the fabric of his shirt. He descended forward slowly, keeping his eyes open until she closed hers and her lips found his. The thought crossed him briefly - the idea that first kisses were meant to be awkward and simple. They weren't meant to burn like _this_ , dissolving into a careful and comfortable pattern that Killian was sure he'd been born to follow. His fingertips followed the contour of her jaw to her chin as the kiss evolved, her tongue teasing his lower lip while he fought back a low sound vibrating in his throat.

A part of him wondered if it might be possible to stand there all night like this, the broken down walkway above them and the ground _somehow_ still under his feet. A part of him wondered if anything about this unexpected yet perfect moment was actually _real_.

It was only once they managed to pull apart and her relaxed gaze centered on his that he allowed himself to believe he hadn't just imagined it.

"Emma, that…. _was_ …."

"Yeah," she breathed, leaning her forehead against his. "It was."

* * *

The whole summer was like a dream - and so was the one after that. There were days filled with swimming in the shallows and sunset walks where her hand always ended up in his. The nights were full of bonfires and stolen kisses, ones he tried to memorize when she'd smile against his lips while his hand tangled in her hair. They rode his and Liam's bikes out to the lighthouse one afternoon, laughing at their misfortunes when the tires struggled with the sand and staring in awe when they finally made it - her eyes on the waves while his stare settled on the art of watching her. They sat on the ridge of the hillside near her house on a warm July night, gazing at the fireworks - the _actual_ kind rather than the ones sparking constantly between the two of them - as they shot high above the sea in celebration. She'd laid her head against him while the colors lit up her eyes and he couldn't resist taking her under his arm, placing a soft kiss on her head as he did so.

"It's always so beautiful," she commented, smiling up at the display over the water. "I swear it gets better every year."

"Yeah," he agreed with a quick glance down at her, breathing in the scent of her hair as she snuggled against him. "It does."

He'd held true to his word the following day, showing up mid afternoon to assist Emma's dad with the rest of his boat renovation. They'd begun the process the summer before as offered and though he'd spent much of those hot days testing the new waters of his relationship with Emma, they'd gotten a solid start on it. It was the least he could do for a man who'd welcomed him into their home with a kind smile all those summers ago - the scrawny stranger kid from across the bay who never said much about home. It was work, but an enjoyable sort and David had a way of making him feel like he belonged there.

He'd missed that feeling. He supposed it was another one of those things Liam had taken when he left for the Navy.

" _Ah_ , a fine job so far," David grinned, brushing the sawdust away. "It will be seaworthy in no time."

"Aye," Killian nodded. "Just in time to catch the tuna that usually start swimming through at the end of the month - or maybe some cod at the very least."

"I might have to persuade you into going out on the water with me one day," David laughed, tossing him a bottle of water. "It sounds like you know a lot more than I do about fishing around here."

"Oh - yeah, I'd….I'd be happy to."

"You might want to make sure Emma's up to it before you agree though, my boy," David continued with a slight smirk. "She's never been a fan of fishing."

It wasn't really a secret that they were being watched, mostly because he'd peered over his shoulder toward the deck a few times to confirm it. She always made it a point to be there if he was - even when he was occupied with whatever task David had requested help with. He looked over at her once more, trying not to stare too long at the way her wavy hair caught the breeze or the manner in which she seemed to be sneaking glances at him as well. Their eyes met for a moment, each of them a bit embarrassed at first but quickly shifting into an honest plea that carried silent questions.

 _Are you almost done?_

 _How much longer?_

 _What's my father saying to you?_

 _What happens when summer ends?_

 _Can't you just stay here with me?_

That plea was one he knew his eyes asked often - not that he ever wanted an answer. He knew it wouldn't be the one he hoped for anyway.

"Well, we could always go without her, right?"

"Hmmm," David contemplated, raising an eyebrow. "You two not being joined at the hip for a _whole_ day seems pretty out of the ordinary. Are you sure the world wouldn't end if that happened?"

Killian laughed awkwardly, scratching behind his ear as his cheeks went red. He looked out at the sea, trying to focus on the way the waves lifted with the wind instead of the implication the man at side might be making.

"I'm not mad, Killian," he offered, his expression honest and caring. "I know you have feelings for her - I'm _pretty_ sure you have for a long time and it's okay."

"It….it is?"

"Of course," David assured him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "You know Mary Margaret and I trust you. You've always been there for her, even after all these years - and you two always have fun together. That's what summer is all about, right?"

That six letter word weighed heavy on his shoulders, reminding him quickly of his place in Emma's life. David hadn't meant to injure his ego with the comment - he was merely stating a painful true observation.

This was _seasonal_. They were temporary. She'd be gone soon - but _god_ , how he wanted her to stay.

* * *

He fixed the porch swing that autumn, mostly because he wanted to watch the sea while it was still fair and because he wanted to have a place to sit when she called - because _yes_ , she'd promised to call when she left a few weeks earlier. She'd made that commitment with a shaky voice and the tears filling her eyes as she tried to keep them them from falling had nearly split him in two. Watching their car drive away had become difficult over the years, but this season was harder than most. The next time she'd return could very well be the last and he needed to know that he'd at least get _that_ much with her.

He needed to know he'd see her at least _one_ more time.

His phone rang daily at first, her name lighting up the screen with that goofy picture he'd snapped of her trying to bait a hook on the fishing trip David had sworn she wouldn't go on. He smiled every time he saw it, a reminder of what she'd endure just to share time with him - _even_ if she did spend much of the ride on the water with a pouting expression he'd wanted to kiss away. He'd avoided that with her father around, but made up for it later when she cuddled up against him on their beach blanket under the starry sky.

It was a memory he could return to if needed - and it _was_ needed when the phone calls started to dwindle.

He took a job at the docks that winter, mostly prepping and unloading fishing boats while bundled in a warm jacket and the gloves she sent him in the mail - ones her mother had made for him with a note demanding he let her know if they wore out and he was in need of new ones. The hours were long and distracting, something he hoped might ease the pain of her being away more than it actually did. The cold settled deep in his bones and then in his heart when he heard from her less after the new year, the feeling of her touch and the memory of just how green her eyes were fading like the holiday season.

The expected letter came from Liam in February. He'd been trying to prepare for it, knowing full well what it would say and what question it would contain.

 _When are you going to join the Navy?_

It shouldn't have made his soul sink the way that it did. It had been the plan for years - their way out of this town and his chance to make his big brother proud. He remembered the night on the Nolan's back porch when he'd discussed it with Emma and the way she'd tried to encourage him despite the hint of sadness in her words.

 _How long would you be gone for?_

 _Will you be able to write?_

 _Would I get to see you when you returned?_

He didn't have the answers to her inquiries, opting to downplay the decision that would press him all too soon. It didn't help that he couldn't ask her the only thing _he_ really needed to know.

 _Will you still be here when I get back?_

Liam's letter found a home on his kitchen table, pushed aside as he procrastinated a reply. He neglected to bring it up when he spoke to Emma briefly the following week, knowing she'd been busy and not wanting to spend their brief phone call talking about that. He hadn't heard her voice nearly enough lately and it was comforting to listen to her, her smile something he wish he could see when he caught the contentment in her tone. It carried on that way for a few minutes until she told him the one thing - the _only_ thing - that could bring his happiness to a screeching halt.

She didn't know if she'd be coming to the shore for summer.

His jaw dropped slightly as he slumped against the cushion of the swing as he tried to process such a foreign sentence. She elaborated slightly, telling him all about the college tours she had lined up plus the final trip she'd planned on taking with her friends before they all went their own way. He tried to ignore the pain in the pit of his stomach, trying to hinge on her promise of ' _trying her hardest to make it if she could'_. He spent the next few minutes convincing himself that she meant it. She would be there - she _had_ to be. Emma _was_ his summer. _They_ were the only sort of summer he knew.

Their conversation ended shortly after her heartstopping words, his hand dropping his phone to the tabletop with a defeated sigh and he spied the forgotten letter next to yesterday's newspaper. Running his fingers through his hair - the dark, grown out hair Emma would have teased him about if she were there - he reached for the notepad that had always made its home next to the sugar bowl. Grabbing a pen, he started to pen the avoided reply to his brother while ignoring the memories flashing in his head - memories of her bare feet in the sand and the way she'd dragged him to the front of the ferris wheel line at the carnival and the smooth feel of her lips every single time she kissed him. The letters flowed onto the paper with a numbness he didn't want to address and the ink smeared slightly as he reached the end, scribbling the single word that would answer his brother's ignored prodding.

 _Soon._

* * *

Graduation came and went, just another day in his recently even more lonely life with little more than a phone call from his brother and one he wished for but didn't get from Emma. He'd opted to walk the beach as the sun sank into the bleak horizon with the promise of prolonged daylight. He'd turned away from the reminder with a lazy shuffle of his feet as he wandered to the front of the house, remembering to grab the mail before heading back inside.

He'd figured it would come soon enough, but feeling the letter between his fingertips was beyond surreal in that instance. He traced the familiar patriotic seal as he realized this was _it_ \- his future laid out on a document from the Navy. He scanned the text in search of a time frame and felt his nerves spike as he found it.

Two weeks. Two weeks until _everything_ changed.

He walked inside silently, setting the official letter on the coffee table and reaching for his phone to call the one person who'd be able to tell him he was doing the noble thing even if he _was_ now scared beyond his wits. His fingers hovered over the keys as he froze. What was he _doing?_ She hadn't called - and suddenly, it didn't feel right to call her. His hand sank as he tossed the device onto the table, staring straight ahead into the emptiness of the house toward the cupboard that hadn't been opened in years. He let his feet carry him to it and he took a deep breath before he opened it to reveal a row of bottles that had been waiting there since he was a boy. Reaching to the back carefully as the glass containers clinked against each other, his hand wrapped around one that was still sealed.

No, he couldn't call her. So he did the one thing he really _shouldn't_ do - he sat down on the couch and got rip roaring drunk.

He'd thrown the bottles out the next day - _all_ of them - after he woke up with the headache he probably deserved. He felt hopelessly foolish that he'd turned to drinking in such a weak moment and the first thing he wanted to do was dispose of the awful choice he'd goaded himself into so he'd never make it again. He determined as he hopped into Liam's old truck to head to the corner store for some aspirin that he wouldn't be like his father, no matter how frustrated and downright devastated he was.

He'd just have to do what he did with the rest of the his lifelong pain - bury it deep and hope that the ocean might wash it away eventually.

He missed her immensely as he turned onto the main road, but he missed her _even_ more when he came up on the Nolan's summer house to see her parents unpacking the car - and no Emma in sight. The truck came to a halt as he bit his lip, setting it into reverse with hopes he hadn't been noticed and flipping around slowly. No hangover cure was worth driving any further in _that_ direction.

Perhaps the pounding in his head would help him sleep off the realization that his summer was somehow over before it even started - but _perhaps_ his dreams would allow him to believe that their season would never end.

* * *

He wasn't sure what woke him first - the pitter patter of raindrops falling on the window or the soft rapping on his front door. Whichever it was seemed irrelevant and he rubbed his eyes, allowing the time on the nearby wall clock to tell him he'd nearly slept the day away. He knew the sea was tumbling violently as it always did during early season storms like this one and he wondered if he'd have to spend the night waiting for the crashing waves to cease before he could fall back to sleep.

The sudden ache is his soul reminded him of why he'd succumbed to the couch earlier that day and as he remembered catching that glimpse of the Nolans, all he wanted to do was close his eyes again.

A second knock pulled him back to reality and he narrowed his eyes at the door. It was getting late and he wasn't one to gather many visitors, a fact that caused his curiosity to pique when a third knock met his ears.

He lifted himself with a tired groan, plodding toward the doorway while dragging a hand through his errant hair. His grip yanked hard on the handle hard enough to interrupt the persistent rhythm and the always present reminder that he needed to fix the worn down hinges caused a squeak as the door swung open. His feet sunk into the floor as his vision came into focus and he stared for god knows how long before a name - _that_ name - fell quietly from his lips.

"Emma?"

Her cheeks were rosy as she offered him a weak smile, her arms folded against her chest as the wind tousled that long blonde hair. He was almost positive he was imagining her or perhaps he was even still asleep. He couldn't move as disbelief filled his features and her mouth parted as she sighed a most relieved sound.

"Hi."

The greeting was so simple and sweet that he couldn't help but offer her a slight smirk. His eyes widened as he tried to accept this altered universe where she'd actually _truly_ showed up. He'd spent months hoping for this moment and now as she stood on his doorstep, all he wanted to do was pull her back into his arms.

He couldn't though - not _yet_.

"Why….what are you doing here?"

"Well," she started, shrugging as her smile appeared again. "It's summer."

"Aye," he confirmed, eyeing her cautiously. "You said you weren't coming though. I mean, I saw your parents today and they-"

"They don't know I'm here," she interrupted, shoving her hands in her pockets. "I didn't tell them…. _yet_."

It took him a moment to catch on, but as a hint of guilt lit up her expression, he realized she'd come here from the city on her own. He took a moment to glance toward the driveway and noticed her yellow bug - the one she'd told him her father was fixing up for her over the phone one night - parked off to the side.

"Oh," he said softly, tilting his head. "So….what changed your mind?"

"Well, it's our last summer together."

His heart sunk just a bit at her answer. He was fairly that sentence would _never_ stop hurting. He bit his lip lightly, trying to hold back a plea for the case to be otherwise.

"Aye."

"I just….I wanted to see you….and, I, _uh_ ," she explained, her anxiousness quite adorable. "It's just….did you know I had to _guess_ which house was yours? I've never actually been here and I've only seen it from across the shore so at first I _thought_ it was the house next door, but I knocked there and it's late so I don't think your neighbor appreciated that-"

Her rambling was quite amusing and something he wanted to continue to witness, but as the rain started to hit the front sidewalk a little harder, he couldn't help his urge to dash down the steps and take her into his arms. She giggled in surprise as his fingers grazed her cheek, coaxing her lips toward his. She seemed to melt into him, her kiss instantly making everything right in his world again as she wrapped her arms tight around his neck. The storm picked up strength and they were soon drenched, but by the time he pulled back far enough to see the deep green in her eyes, he realized it didn't matter.

He'd face the undaunting perils of a hurricane if it meant he could kiss her like _this_ again.

"Killian," she shivered, her hands gripping his shirt. "Can we….talk…. _n-not_ in the rain?"

"Oh, _god_ \- yes, of course, love," he nodded with a slight laugh, rubbing her freezing bare arms. "Do you want to come inside?"

She nodded with the slight chatter of her teeth and he tilted his head toward the door, following her up his front steps with a sense of relief he hadn't known in months. She peeked back over her shoulder at him and he took a deep breath, realizing that he needed to focus more on _why_ she was there rather than the million different ways he might convince her to stay.

Summer was only a season and this one might be their last - but like _hell_ if he wasn't going to do whatever he could to make sure it wasn't.


End file.
